


I was the match and you were the rock

by deblond



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, AU, Cliche, Drabbles, Fluff, Humor, M/M, challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deblond/pseuds/deblond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Independent stories written for the 30 days of writing challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

Stiles has been going to the coffeeshop for a month when it happens.

“Here’s your usual.”

And Stiles, “what?”

The barista (Derek, Stiles knows because it says so on his nametag and he’s always there and always grumpy and absolutely not the reason he comes here even though there’s another -cheaper- place near his house) looks at him. “Your usual order. Vanilla latte, no sugar. Right?”

Stiles nods. “How do you know what I order?”

Derek raises his eyebrows (and they are very nice eyebrows, Stiles may or may not have tried to compose sonnets about them – they were awful and Scott still laughs when he remembers them but still) and looks at him like he’s an idiot. “You come here every day. I’m not daft.”

And really, it’s not a surprise that the place is almost always empty when Stiles is there. With that kind of service the wonder is that they have customers at all. Then again, they probably come just to gape at Derek’s jawbone or his eyes so it doesn’t matter if he’s rude to them or not.

“Thank you.” Stiles bites the words instead of saying them and grabs his coffee. He thinks he’s definitely not coming back, at least in a week (or maybe just until tomorrow morning, the walk is good for his legs, right?).

He pays without waiting for Derek to tell him the total, he already knows, he is here every day after all.

He’s almost outside when he notices the phone number scribbled at the bottom of his cup. It doesn’t say anything else, just the number, and Stiles thinks maybe is a mistake.

“What-“

Derek looks at him with wide eyes. Is he nervous? Stiles thinks he is and he suddenly understands why he had already prepared his coffee beforehand. “Never mind,” he says. “See you, Derek.”

He doesn’t stop smiling until he’s finished his coffee and has saved the number on his phone (under the name Grumpypants, Stiles is such a comedic genius). He thinks he’s going to let Derek sweat it out for a few days.

Oh, who is he kidding? He already knows he’s going to call him as soon as he gets home.


	2. Accusation

“You’re sleeping with him.”

Stiles almost spits his water. “What?” he asks weakly.

“Son, don’t play dumb.” His father sighs while he plays with the food on his plate. Stiles frowns when he sees that he hasn’t even touched his vegetarian lasagna.

“I don’t play dumb, dad. And eat your food.”

As if he’s the challenging teenager, the sheriff drops his fork and stares down at Stiles. “Do you think I won my badge on a raffle?”

“I don’t know what you do on your spare time, dad.”

“Stiles!” He sighs loudly, making an effort to calm down (is a gesture that his father has to do a lot when talking to him, Stiles likes to count how many times he sighs exasperated in one conversation --so far he’s up to twenty-one). “Half the town has seen you and Derek Hale all over each other.” Stiles has to bite his tongue to not say anything ‘cause that is a lie (Derek is infuriatingly private and hates PDA, whatever half the town has seen is definitely not them getting it on in public, that’s for sure). “And I know he comes around here when I’m gone, the neighbors saw his car.” Ok, that part is true.

“Are you sure it was? I think is a very common- Fine, yeah, you’re right,” Stiles says when he realizes that he’s not going to convince his dad. “So what? I’m eighteen and going to college in September, everything is perfectly legal.”

His father rubs the bridge of his nose (that’s another gesture that he does a lot when talking to Stiles, it can’t compete with the sighing but still).

“I don’t like that family, son. The Hale are… weird.”

“Dad, the other day I caught you talking with your gun, and I’m almost sure you were caressing it. Are you really gonna write off the Hale because they are weird?”

The sheriff looks at him without saying anything for a second. “Bring him for dinner tomorrow.”

Stiles represses the urge to jump and hug his dad (he’s trying to appear more mature after all). “We’ll be there,” he says coolly instead.

He’s already in his room when he realizes that his father didn’t finish his vegetarian lasagna.  Damn he’s good with diversionary tactics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second drabble! I'm not sure if anyone is reading this but I'm having a good time writing it so... xx


	3. Restless

At first, Derek is not sure what exactly woke him up. He’s used to sleep with one eye open at all times, ready to stand up and attack at the minimal noise, but there isn’t any danger this time.

He feels the body lying next to him shift to the side and Derek’s arm on his waist falls to the mattress. That's when Derek realizes that Stiles is awake (his heart is beating a little too fast and his breath is uneven, like he’s frustrated), he most likely didn’t fall asleep in the first place and has been thinking and turning around in bed all this time.

Stiles doesn’t seem to have noticed that Derek is awake yet so Derek lays silent for a moment without opening his eyes or moving. He listens to Stiles breathing, is one of his favorite sounds in the world and he has fallen sleep countless times just listening to it. Finally, when he hears Stiles sighs for what must be the twelfth time he decides that is enough.

“Just tell me what it is,” he says without turning around. He opens his eyes though, and stares at the ceiling while he adjusts them to the dim light of the room.

Stiles doesn’t make a noise or jumps in surprise so maybe he did know that Derek wasn’t sleeping after all. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, and Derek doesn’t need to listen to his heartbeat to know he’s lying (he does anyway ‘cause that’s his other favorite sound – he doesn’t know what he would do if the sound ever stops).

“Why are you awake then?”

“Don’t know. Tried counting sheep but it didn’t work,” Stiles mutters sarcastically. “I’m gonna go drink some warm milk now.” And he’s out of the bed and in the kitchen before Derek can say anything else.

“Is this about today? I already told you I had to-“

“Yeah right you told me,” Stiles cuts him off, apparently tired of pretending to be indifferent. “After going to meet up with a crazy alpha pack leaded by a psychotic super strong werewolf that wants you dead. Thanks a lot for that.”

“What do you want me to do? Sit around and watch while they kill everyone else?”

“I want you to stop getting in situations that are going to get you killed! I want you to stop acting like nobody cares if you live or die! Stop acting ike you don’t even care!” Stiles’ voice breaks and his eyes are wet. He turns around and wipes his face hastily.

“I do care,” Derek manages to say. He feels a lump on his throat – he didn’t know that Stiles worried that much for him, that he was on the edge of breaking.

“Just forget it, ok? Keep doing whatever you want without bothering to talk to me first.” Stiles walks past Derek to get out of the kitchen but Derek grabs him gently by the waist and forces him to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. The words sound foreign on his tongue, he’s not used to saying them (he’s not used to a lot of things, when it comes to Stiles, but he thinks that he would really like to get used to them). “Would you stop yelling at me if I promise to try to dial back on the life or death situations?”

“Or you can just tell me about it first.”

“Or I can just tell you about it first,” Derek meekly agrees. Anything to never have to see Stiles like this again. Hesitantly, he tries to hug him and almost sighs in relief when Stiles returns the hug, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck.

Stiles snorts. “What?” Derek asks, pulling away to look at him.

“I just sounded like an incredible whiny and clingy girlfriend,” Stiles answers. Derek smiles softly. “Well, don’t disagree or anything.”

“If the shoe fits…” Derek mutters.

“Oh, you’re funny now?” Stiles attempts to pull away but Derek doesn’t let him, tightening his grip on his waist.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed,” he says. Stiles raises his eyebrows with a lewd smile. “To sleep. You have school in the morning.”

“Just when I had started to forgive you…”


	4. Snowflake

It’s four thirty and Stiles is late. He miscalculated how much time would it take for his roommate to stop crying and whining about his on again/off again girlfriend and now he has to quicken his pace if he doesn’t want his boss to yell at him (he’s a cool enough guy but Stiles hasn’t been late yet so he doesn’t know exactly how he’s gonna react).

He clenches his teeth preparing himself for the gust of chilly wind that waits for him outside. That’s probably the only downside of going to college in New York. It’s freezing in winter. Stiles hates the snow. And the cold. But mostly the snow. He adjusts his beanie so that it covers his ears and hurries up down the crowded street. His hands are already numb and he reminds himself to buy warm gloves. It’s ironic that he doesn’t have any gloves when he works at a store that sells them (and scarves, and knitted caps, and yarn. But mostly, yeah, gloves), Stiles is aware of that, but he never remembers that he needs them except when he is in the middle of the street without being able to feel his hands.

When he arrives at the shop there’s nobody inside except for Laura, one of his coworkers. Stiles sighs in relief when the warmth of the place seeps into his skin and melts his frozen limbs. He pulls off his coat and nods at Laura. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“You’re late,” she says without looking away from her nails.

“I know I’m sorry.” Stiles gets behind the counter, next to her. “You’re not going to tell, are you?”

She pretends to think about it but Stiles isn’t worried. Even though they aren’t exactly friends they get on well enough and she’s not a bad person. “I won’t, but you owe me.” Stiles shrugs, unaffected. “I’m going inside to finish the inventory, you think you can manage in here by yourself?” Laura asks raising an eyebrow.

Stiles takes a look at the shop. There’s only one costumer, an old lady closely inspecting the balls of yarn. “Yeah, I think I’ll be able to.”

“Alright. Oh, by the way,” she says before going to the back room. “My little brother is going to come to the shop today, he needs a new scarf. Let me know when he’s here?”

“Sure,” Stiles agrees, but she’s already closed the door. Sparing a brief glance to the old lady that’s now looking back and forth between two balls of yarn that seem identical in his opinion, Stiles purses his mouth and pulls out his laptop. He’s lucky enough to be able to work on his essays and school work when the shop is quiet and he makes the most of it.

He has almost finished a paper he has to turn in next week (in between attending the odd costumer), and he’s concentrated working on the final paragraph, when someone clears his throat in front of him.

“What can I help you with?” he asks without raising his gaze yet.

“I’m Laura’s brother,” a male voice says. Stiles had already forgotten about that.

“Oh, right!” he says rising his head and he has to do a double take ‘cause Laura’s little brother is not exactly, well, little. Tall dark and handsome are better adjectives for him, Stiles can’t help to think. “You’re her little brother.” He represses the urge to bang his head on the desk, why did he just say that?

“Yes, I am,” he says. He’s kind of smiling a little now, the corners of his mouth pulling up, and he looks even hotter. “Derek.”

“I’m Stiles.”

“Nice to meet you.” Derek looks amused and Stiles is pretty sure that it’s because of him but he can’t bring himself to care (he’s used to making a fool himself and at least this time he can ogle this god-like men while he’s at it). “Is my sister here or…?”

“Yeah, of course! Sorry, I’ll go get her.”

Laura smiles when she sees how flustered Stiles is and he suspects that she knew that something like this would happen. He may have to rethink his opinion of her after all.

While he observes Laura and Derek sorting through a bunch of colored and warm scarfs he scoffs. Is not that farfetched to think that her brother would be seven or eight, ten at the most. Why would a grown man need help from his big sister to buy a scarf anyway?

“She says that otherwise I buy everything black,” Derek answers, now looking at him, and Stiles realizes that he said the last part out loud. Oops.

“You do buy everything black, that’s just not healthy, or attractive,” Laura replies. Stiles has to disagree, the black Henley Derek is wearing is almost illegally attractive.

“Thank you,” Derek says and Laura snorts. Stiles blushes, he really needs to start thinking before he talks, especially when there’s someone this hot in front of him. He decides to go back to his paper, for everyone’s sake.

He ignores pretty successfully Derek and Laura’s quiet banter and doesn’t look up to watch them (ok, maybe he peeks once or twice through his eyelashes to stare at Derek, but who wouldn’t?).

“What do you think?” It takes Stiles a second to realize that Derek is talking to him.

“What?”

“About the scarves, which one do you like best?” He’s holding out two scarves, one blue with orange stripes and the other one a light grey.

“Um, the grey one,” Stiles answers.

Derek smiles triumphantly (Stiles congratulates himself for making him smile like that) and leaves the other (ugly) one, handing Stiles the grey scarf to pay for it. Laura huffs. “Well, his opinion shouldn’t count anyway, look at how he dresses!”

“Hey!” Stiles protests, ringing up Derek’s scarf. “Just for that I’m not helping you close today.” His shift is over but he normally stays until Laura closes the shop.

“You’re a bad person and I hate you,” Laura says flatly. “Oh, Derek,” she says to her brother, eyes glinting slyly. “Aren’t you going to class now? Stiles is heading there too, you can take him!”

“You go to NYU, too?” Derek asks, grabbing the bag with his scarf. Stiles nods, repressing the urge to glare at Laura. “Sure, I could give you a ride.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary-“

“I don’t mind. Besides it’s freezing outside.”

“Yeah, Stiles,” Laura intervenes. Stiles wants to kill her. “You don’t even have gloves to keep your hands warm.”

Despite his attempts of protesting, ten minutes later, Stiles finds himself on Derek’s car. “Sorry if you didn’t want to take me,” he says.

“Oh, I don’t mind, really. Sorry if you didn’t want to come with me. My sister can be kind of hard to say no to.”

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” Stiles replies sarcastically. Derek snorts. “And I did want to come, definitely better than walking. Just didn’t want to impose or something.”

“Why don’t you have gloves?” Derek asks after a short silence.

“I don’t know, I just keep forgetting to buy them,” he answers. He knows is kind of a stupid reason but Derek doesn’t say anything. “Over here is fine,” he says when they reach the building where his dorm is. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek replies. “And it was nice meeting you.”

“You too.” It’s stupid but Stiles doesn’t want to leave the car, he kind of wants to stay with Derek even if they don’t talk about anything. He hasn’t felt anything like this before. He has to get out of the car though, and with a last wave, he does, walking quickly towards the front door.

When he gets to work the next day, Laura is looking at him with a sly smile. “Something came for you.”

Stiles raises his eyebrow. There’s a package on the counter with his name scribbled on it. He opens it to find a pair of light grey gloves. He doesn’t need to look at the card to know who sent them. He does anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that the story doesn't have anything to do with he prompt but I just started writing and this is what came out....


	5. Haze

“Oh, dude – that’s gross!”

“What?” Stiles asks while he tries to put on his hoodie. It shouldn’t be this hard, he’s sure that he’s dressed himself just fine a thousand times before but right now he can’t even find the zipper.

“Couldn’t you just throw the tissues to the trash?” Scott answers gesturing around the room. Every available surface is full of crumpled and used paper tissues.

“I did at first,” Stiles replies pathetically. The trash is overflowing with tissues now. He fistbumps the air in triumph when he finally zips his hoodie but stops immediately, wincing, when the movement just aggravates his headache.

“You don’t look too good, dude, why don’t you stay here?”

“Can’t. I have to go to class.” Stiles grabs his bag ignoring how all of his limbs ache. “And it’s just a cold anyway.”

“You’re always skipping class for the dumbest reasons and when you’re sick you have to go?” Scott points out. Stiles wonders when his friend started making so much sense – not that he’s going to admit it. He’s not sick, dammit.

“Whatever,” is all that he manages to answer. It’s definitely not his best but his head is pulsing and he doesn’t feel like thinking or being witty. Before Scott can say anything else, he’s out of the door and heading to class.

Is not something that happens usually, but Scott is right. Stiles really shouldn’t have gone to class. His head aches so much and he’s so dizzy that it’s like he didn’t even go in the first place because he doesn’t hear a word of the lecture. The only thing he’s managed to do is worsen his cold – his head hurts more every minute that passes and he’s shivering uncontrollably (the classroom is freezing). Also he has used all of his tissues and he’s sniffing pathetically every ten seconds.

When the professor finally dismisses the class, Stiles is too miserable to feel any relief. He just grabs his stuff and walks to his dorm room as fast as he can without throwing up.

He doesn’t know if he’s happy or not to find Scott still in their room. He is lying on his bed, smiling dopily at his phone (probably texting Isaac) but when he sees Stiles he stands up.

“You ok?” he says watching him warily. Stiles manages to nod while he drops his stuff carelessly – the only thing he wants right now is to lie down and sleep for a century or so. “So you’re not sick, right?”

Stiles is going to answer but he can feel his eyelids closing and his knees giving up, the last thing he’s aware of is Scott’s worried voice saying his name and his arms catching him when he falls.

When he wakes up there’s a soft surface beneath him –his bed, he realizes- and he’s warm all over. It’s almost too warm, but there’s a damp and cold cloth on his forehead. Warily, he opens his eyes. He feels dizzy and his head is heavy, his nose stuffed up. He’s miserable.

“You’re alive, then?” says a voice to his right. Stiles turns his head around too quickly and regrets it instantly when his head pulses. Derek is sitting next to his bed with crossed arms and a frown on his face.

“Really? Scott called my boyfriend to take care of me?”

“Yeah, it’s so weird,” Derek says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Almost as if we cared about you and your wellbeing.”

Stiles groans. “C’mon that’s not fair.”

“You mean like having to find out that your boyfriend is sick to the point of passing out by his friend?” Derek won’t give an inch. He passes Stiles a glass with medicine. “Here, it’ll make your fever go down.”

Stiles makes a grimace, but drinks it without protesting. “I didn’t tell you anything because I know you have that test on Monday and you need to study,” he says handing Derek the empty glass. He closes his eyes, trying to get his head to stop spinning.

“Really?” Stiles doesn’t need to open his eyes to know the look on Derek’s face right now – the one when he thinks of how much of an idiot Stiles is but how much he loves him anyway. “You’re an idiot.” There it is.

“You know, you shouldn’t treat me so badly,” he says, finally opening his eyes. “I’m sick.”

“I thought you were fine.”

“I liked it better when you and Scott couldn’t stand each other.” Derek looks at him exasperated. “Ok, sorry. Next time I’m feeling like crap I’ll call you first thing.” And he’s not even joking, having his boyfriend with him it’s already making him feel better. “Now can we cuddle?”

Derek pretends to think about it (as if he’s going to say no – he’s a closeted cuddler and they both know it) and then gestures for Stiles to make room for him.

Stiles falls asleep with Derek’s arms around him and his head burrowed on Derek’s chest. Everything is good.

(It isn’t so good when he wakes up though, and he complains so much that Derek threatens to kill him about a dozen times– right before making him chicken soup and talking to him softly until he falls sleep)


	6. Flame

They hate each other. Absolutely can’t stand the other. They can’t be in the same room without fighting (verbally or otherwise).

If you ask Stiles to make a list of the people he loathes, Derek will be the first person on the list (even beating his math teacher and Jackson). Derek doesn’t have time for lists but he returns the feeling whole-heartily.

That’s why neither of them can understand it. This attraction that they feel for each other. This feeling that hits them whenever they are in the same room. Like they can’t breathe if they aren’t touching but they can’t breathe if they touch either.

Stiles wishes that he had never met Derek. At the same time, he never wants to be without him, without the feel of his lips on his skin. Without the sound of Derek’s soft ragged breaths in his ear.

Derek doesn’t want to see Stiles again. He wants him to disappear from his life forever. He also wants to grab him and never let him go. He misses him when they are not together but can’t talk to him about it. Can’t talk to him about anything, actually.

People wonder how they haven’t killed each other yet. Everyone tries to keep them separated, make sure that they interact the minimal amount. They don’t know about the times when they can’t keep their hands off each other. They don’t know that when Stiles has had a bad day (a really really bad day, ‘cause lately all of his days seem to be bad one way or another) he goes to Derek, and Derek – Derek comforts him, makes him feel better. And when Derek doesn’t know what to do, Stiles somehow finds a way to guide him, to make him see what’s right.

But no one knows that. And they never will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what this is. Sorry?


	7. Formal

Stiles blames the way his day goes on teenage hormones. You see, if the little horny monsters he has to teach English to on a daily basis showed a little of interest, he wouldn’t need to go to the bookstore to look for interesting or cool books to talk to them about. He could just go over the ones on the syllabus and call it a day – but no, Stiles is a young teacher (this is just his second year at the high school) and he still wants the students to listen to him, so he needs to be creative and original.

That’s how he finds himself inside of _Hale bookstore_ , hoping that Cora can help him find a way to stimulate the young minds.

“You should make them read _50 shades of grey,”_ she says.

“I’m trying to educate them no traumatize them!”

“Exactly. They’ll be so afraid that they’ll listen to you.”

Stiles wonders how he’s friends with such an evil person. “Can’t you just tell me where are the new books?”

Before Cora can answer someone enters the store cursing under his breath and slamming the door behind him.

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Cora says dryly.

Derek’s answer is a grunt and a glare. Which is not that different of how he is must days in Stiles opinion.

“What was that?”

“Laura keeps bothering me about the wedding.”

Stiles looks at him with wide eyes. “Wedding? You’re getting married?” It’s not that he cares, he just can’t believe Derek has found someone willing to marry him (he may be hot but he’s an asshole half of the time and a grumpy the other half).

“No, my sister is.”

“Laura is getting married this Saturday. To the love of his life,” Cora says with an eye roll that expresses how she feels about the whole situation.

“You don’t like him or something?”

“I like him just fine but I think they are rushing it. They’ve only been dating for a few months.”

“You’re just a cynic that doesn’t believe in love.” Cora looks at him unimpressed. Stiles shrugs, he is not that much of a romantic himself.

“Why is she bothering you anyway?” Cora asks to Derek, who has started sorting through a pile of books and doesn’t seem to be listening to them.

“She wants me to bring a date,” he mutters. Cora bursts into laughter and Stiles has to repress a chuckle too ‘cause, well. “It’s not funny.”

“Don’t listen to her. You already went to the engagement party by yourself.”

“Yeah and I had to endure her teasing me and introducing me girls all night.” Derek frowns. “She says that I can’t go alone to her wedding – it will look bad in the pictures.”

Stiles has never met Laura but she’s heard a lot about her and she seems like someone that you just don’t want to mess with. Even Derek seems a little scared of her.

“Hey, why don’t you take Stiles?” Cora says suddenly and Stiles perks up when he hears his name.

“Huh?” he asks. “Me?”

“Him?” Derek’s tone is so disdainful and disbelieving that Stiles feels insulted.

“Hey!” he says offended. “You wish that you could get a date like me, dude.” Derek looks at him with skepticism.

“C’mon is just to get Laura off your case, it won’t be a real date – Stiles is not that bad,” Cora says. Stiles glares at her.

“I guess it could work…”

“Hey!” Stiles repeats. “Who said I want to go anywhere with you?”

Derek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose like Stiles is a particularly stubborn child. “Would you go to my sister wedding with me?” Then, as if it hurt him to say it, he adds, “please.”

“No.”

“Stiles!”

“I’m sorry but I don’t feel like spending an evening with you.”

“Actually is two evenings,” Cora chirps out. “There’s the rehearsal dinner on Friday.”

“A rehearsal dinner?”

“If you come with me I’ll help you find some interesting books for your class,” Derek says.

“How do you even know that I need them?”

“You complain about that every day you’re here. I’m not deaf.”

“Oh.” Stiles thinks about it for a moment. “Ok.”

“So you’ll come?” Derek asks with a grunt. Stiles nods. “Alright.” And he disappears in the back room of the store.

“This is so romantic,” Cora says pretending to sigh dreamily wipe away a tear. Annoyed, Stiles glares at her. “Don’t worry – you’ll thank me later”.

And a week later, when Stiles is dancing with Derek and trying hard no to drool at the sight of him in a tuxedo, he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! So I was really uninspired and I couldn't get anything written for this prompt - I kept starting a story and deleting it... and well I'm not really satisfied with this but I had to publish something lol


	8. Companion

Stiles has been twitching on his seat all dinner. Derek hasn’t said anything because he knows that he’s going to tell him whenever he’s ready.

“Are gonna eat that cinnamon roll?” Derek asks already reaching his hand out to grab it.

“How can you think about cinnamon rolls on a moment like this?” Stiles yells.

Derek looks around them with a confused expression. They are eating take out in their living room couch with the TV on. It seems like the perfect moment to eat a cinnamon roll.

“What?”

“Oh my god, Derek! You are so insensitive!” Stiles stands up throwing the cinnamon roll at him. “Here! Eat you damn cinnamon roll, I don’t care anymore.”

Derek is really confused now. Stiles doesn’t usually just yell at him for no reason whatsoever. “What?” he repeats.

Stiles scoffs angrily and leaves the room. Stunned, Derek goes after him. He finds him sitting on their bed scrubbing his face.

“You are an asshole, you know?” he says

“I know,” Derek agrees easily. “I usually know why though.”

“I was trying to tell you something important and you kept asking about the fucking cinnamon rolls!”

“You stuttered something about your work and the weather and then stayed silent for the rest of the dinner. And that cinnamon roll looked delicious.”

Stiles seems to deflate then. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s just-“

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been weird all night.” Derek moves closer, putting his arms on Stiles’ shoulders. “You can talk to me.”

“I want to ask you something. You can say no if you want, ok? Just- please don’t say no.”

“Ok,” Derek says slowly.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?”

“I knew it!” Stiles says pulling away. “Just forget I said anything.” He goes into the bathroom and slams the door behind him.

Derek is so surprised and taken of guard that he doesn’t react for a moment. Did Stiles just propose to him? Without being able to contain a smile, he goes towards the bathroom door.

“Stiles?” There’s no answer. “I didn’t say no.”

“You didn’t say yes either.”

“You didn’t let me.”

“Were you going to?”

“We’ve been dating for five years and living together for almost three, what do you think?”

The bathroom door opens and Stiles’ face appears. His eyes are a little wet but he’s smiling. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you too.” Derek opens his arms and Stiles flings himself at him. They kiss for a long time until Derek pulls away with a chuckle. “I can’t believe this is how you proposed.”

Stiles snorts. “Yeah we are definitely going to need to change the story for the grandchildren.”


	9. Move

The apartment is an utter and complete mess. There are boxes everywhere, some of them open, with their content scattered around the floor and every other surface. The furniture is distributed around the room without any kind of order whatsoever – there’s a desk chair next to the couch, a bookcase in front of the TV… Derek is contemplating all of his life choices at the moment. How can they have so much stuff?

“Weren’t Scott and Isaac supposed to come help us?” he asks while he tries to move the desk into its place in a corner of the living room. Try being the operative word here because Stiles is currently organizing their DVDs and Derek may be strong but he only manages to move the desk a couple of inches by himself.

“Yeah, that’s what they said,” Stiles answers putting the DVDs on one of the shelves. Derek doesn’t know what order he’s following to put _Terminator_ next to _A walk to remember_ but he doesn’t dare to ask. “They probably forgot.”

Derek makes a face. There’s no doubt in his mind that that’s what happened. He’s also pretty sure of why exactly Isaac and Scott forgot but he rather not think about that.

“Well, if you wanted our apartment to look remotely like a home by today you’re going to be disappointed,” he says.

“Don’t be so negative! I think the hardest part is already over!”

Derek looks around the room raising his eyebrows. “There’s nothing over – our toothbrushes are on the kitchen sink.”

“But all of our stuff is already in the apartment! I must admit I wasn’t sure everything was going to fit…”

“I’m not so sure it does. Maybe we’ll have to sleep on the hall to make a place for everything.”

“If I had known that you would be so grumpy about this I would have called Lydia for help. Everything would be perfect and in its right place already.”

“I’d like to see Lydia move the bookcase,” Derek mutters glaring at the offending piece of furniture. And now that he thinks about it, it doesn’t look so bad where it is – sure, it’s in front of one of the windows but Derek thinks that he can learn to live without sunlight if that means that he doesn’t have to try to move the bookcase by himself.

Stiles ignores him and jumps with triumph. “Well, the DVDs are already in their place!”

“Good, now maybe you can help me with the heavy stuff?”

“You know, I think now would be a good time to order a pizza…”

“Stiles!” Derek glares at him. “We can’t leave the place like this.”

“Sure we can – the bed is already in place and that’s all we need. We’ll just finish it tomorrow. Maybe by then our horrible friends would have stopped fucking long enough to remember about us and they’ll come help.”

Derek sighs. The fact that it actually sounds like a good plan right now gives away how exhausted he is.

“Alright.”

Stiles smiles like he already knew that he was going to cave (he did – Derek is a pushover with him) and heads towards the bedroom. Derek stretches his sore muscles. The idea of lying down is getting more attractive by the second. Maybe he can convince Stiles to give him a massage…

“Um, Derek?” comes Stiles’ voice from the bedroom. “Where’s the mattress?”

Derek looks around. “It’s not in there?” he asks even though he already knows the answer.

“If it was in there do you think I would be asking you where it is?”

Derek groans out loud. Of course they forgot to move the most important thing. That’s just their life.

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this challenge and I thought I'll try it out. Like it says on the summary the stories aren't connected and I think that most of them will be drabbles and AUs. I'll /try/ to write one per day but I don't know if I will be able to...
> 
> You can also find me on my tumblr (deblond) btw :)


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